


Recruitment

by smolder



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The Mentalist
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-27
Updated: 2011-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolder/pseuds/smolder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...she really wished the blood that covered his usual flattering three piece suit would have made him less attractive..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recruitment

Part One

 

He was the most charming man she had ever met. And in a way the most terrifying.

She knew that a part of her had been waiting for this since she met him.

So no, she wasn’t surprised, in an odd way she was relived that the waiting was over. But now she had call to make.

 

The note had been simple but she had known as soon as she saw it exactly what happened and where.

Just like he’d known she would.

“I’m sorry,” was all it said. And she knew he was.

Not for what he had done, never for that, but instead, for disappointing her.

 

She didn’t call it in until right before she entered his house. It’s not that she wanted to make sure, there was no doubt in her mind what she would find, she had just wanted to be the first one there.

She knew that was what he wanted and she had always had a hard time denying him.

 

Blonde curly hair, bright blue eyes and a mouth that lit up with the same boyish smile as always when she entered the bedroom where his wife and daughter had been killed. She really wished the blood that covered his usual flattering three piece suit would have made him less attractive.

“Hello, Teresa.” he said casually when she kept looking at him.

She didn’t respond but glanced down at the mutilated carcass of the serial killer, Red John, sprawled under the old bloody smiley face that had been his trademark in life.

When she looked back up he was still watching her calmly waiting as he had been the whole time. He could have easily got away after getting his vengeance. Fallen off the grid and disappeared without a trace. He had worked with them long enough to know how and he had the ability to talk his way out of anything. But she had always known he wouldn’t just like she had always known this was coming.

She only really had one question for him, “Was it worth it Patrick?”

His answer was simple and exactly what she knew it would be.

“Yes."

 

 

Part Two

 

He looked up as she entered the interrogation room expecting another cop. Not one of his team, he knew they wouldn’t be aloud to talk to him, they were to close.

In a way he was disappointed. They had become like a family to him and he wasn’t sure if he would ever be allowed to see any of them again.

The woman who sat down across from him had long red hair and green eyes that regarded him calmly.

“You aren’t a cop,” he said.

It wasn’t a question but she answered anyway, “No, I’m not.”

For a few moments they simply sat starring at one another. It wasn’t a tactic to make him talk, he had experienced that and many others first hand in this room, it was simply an oddly comfortable pause in conversation.

“You aren’t the least bit remorseful for what you did.”

It wasn’t a question but he answered it anyway, the same way she had, “No, I’m not.”

Her mouth curled in an understanding smile and there was no condemnation in her eyes; only the same unwavering calm.

There was another pause and he was beginning to be curious as to who she was and why she was here but before he could break the silence and ask, she spoke again.

“They’re going to have to prosecute you and you will be sent to jail.”

He smiled, “We seem to be making a lot of rhetorical statements.”

Her lips twitched in and answering grin. “Yes, we are. We’re also answering each other anyway. So I might as well keep on with the trend. You’re wondering why I’m here.”

Continuing the game he replied, “Yes, I am.”

She suddenly became serious. “I’m going to answer you question but first I’m going to tell you a story.”

She looked down, breaking eye contact for the first time since she entered the room. She took a deep breath and seemed to gather herself before meeting his eyes again and when she spoke he was captivated.

“There once was a little girl who, like all little girls, wanted more than anything to love and be loved. Her parents might have loved her but they were never around so she could never be sure. A little boy though was around and the girl loved him with all her heart. And the boy loved the girl, but not the way she wanted. He loved her like a sister and although she craved more, that was enough for the girl. But then she met another boy and he wanted her the way she wished the other boy had. They grew to love one another. And it wasn’t perfect, there were problems, there always are, but the girl was happy and she was content."

“But he wasn’t. The boy was troubled and his eyes wandered and one day the girl caught him with some one else and soon after that he was simply gone. The girl was heartbroken and thought she would never love again. Then came Tara.”

The woman’s voice had been even through the whole tale but she breathed the name like it was the most painful and ecstatic thing in the world. Like it was life itself.

“Tara.” she repeated, swallowing hard and when she continued her voice was thick with emotion.

“She was the girl’s soulmate. Her everything. When she looked at the girl the girl knew she had found what she had always been searching for; she loved with all her heart and she was loved in return.”

Again the woman paused and he could tell that this was incredibly difficult for her, could guess where this tale was going, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop her. He had to hear it.

“There were problems, the girl messed up a lot and for a while she left and the girl was alone. But although what the girl did to her had been unforgivable she still came back and the girl had never in her entire life been happier."

“Then she was killed. Shot. Stray bullet from and idiot who was trying to kill the girls best friend. She laid in the girls arms as she died.”

The devastation in the woman’s voice was unmistakable; the look in her eyes was broken. But as he watched, they came back alive darkened with pure hate and he knew there was more to the story than he had originally thought.

“The girl could do nothing to save the one she loved from dying but she wasn’t helpless and she could not allow the one that had fired the gun to get away while the best part of the girl’s whole universe was gone forever."

“She chased him into a forest, played with him like a cat would a mouse before she cornered him. Then the girl strung him up between the trees, taunted him, tortured him, and when she tired of his desperate pleas for forgiveness and mercy she sewed his mouth shut. But, he wasn’t dead so the girl wasn’t finished. She skinned him alive and set him on fire.”

The room should have felt tense after this pronouncement. He should have felt horrified. Instead, he ended the story for her saying, “And she wasn’t the least bit remorseful for what she did.”

It wasn’t necessary but the woman responded anyway, “No, she wasn’t.”

The two shared a smile that contained no joy, only grim satisfaction and a sense of kinship.

 

 

Part Three

 

She was reluctant to break the moment and was relieved when he did it for her.

“Now you are going to tell me why you’re here.”

“Yes, I am.” And despite the seriousness of they’re conversation just seconds ago, she giggled slightly at his return to they’re little game.

“I was called by a friend,” she said in answer to the question statement.

“Van Pelt?” he asked.

“Now now,” she reprimanded teasingly, “there might be odd rumors that natural red heads are going extinct but that doesn’t mean that we all know each other.”

“Sorry.” he said with a grin. Then he turned pensive for a moment. “It was Lisbon.”

She was impressed. Lizzy had told here he was good, but when she had entered the room and felt that he wasn’t a true seer or telepath she hadn’t been sure what to think.

“Yes,” she answered, “After she got your note, she knew what had happened and wanted to see if I could help.”

“How could you help? By then I’d already killed Red John.” His face twisted with disgust at the name.

“She didn’t want to help that piece of scum, she wanted to help you. Despite what you did, Teresa doesn’t hate you, she’s just disappointed.” He flinched a bit at the statement and for the first time looked marginally guilty.

“She found me covered in blood and I’ve never denied that I was the one who killed him. Like you said, they’re going to have to prosecute me and send me to jail. You’re not a lawyer, so how could you possibly help me?”

She leaned forward conspiratorially, her eyes twinkling, “By offering you a job of course.”


End file.
